Phoenix
by ClemB
Summary: She had came back to life, like a Phoenix resurrecting from the ashes. Spoilers up to episode 317.


A/N : the upcoming episode had me thinking, and thinking, and thinking again. The last sneak peek hadn't helped to make it stop, either. This is the result.

Peter sat silently in a corner of the lab, waiting for Walter's experiments on William Bell - on Olivia's body - to be over. He would not let her out of his sight, no matter how often would Walter and Bell repeat that Olivia was safe and in no danger. He had almost lost her so many times, he would do anything to protect her.

Broyles had given the two mad scientists forty eight hours to find a suitable host for Bell. Two days, and then he would get Olivia back. He had almost offered to sacrifice himself, to host Bell's soul in order to liberate Olivia; but he desperately needed to talk to her, to hold her in his arms, to hear her forgive him for the secret he had hidden from her.

So he just sulked, turning dozen of possible solutions in his head, waiting for the nightmare to be over. Gene could be a temporary host. Wouldn't a comatose person do the trick ? What about transferring him into a computer; after all, Bell was energy, he was data that could be written on a hard drive.

Sighting, he looked at his watch; it was past midnight, and nobody was even close to finding a solution. Being exhausted wouldn't help. He pushed himself up from the table he was half-sitting onto and grabbed both his coat and Olivia's. "Walter, it's late. Let's continue this tomorrow morning."

"Peter, we were about to -"

"No, Walter. I said stop." Walter knew that when his son looked at him that way, he had better comply. He and Belly had been running various tests, from brain activity to physical exercise, trying to discover the after effects of Bell's soul transfered into Olivia. So far, everything seemed normal.

The two old men looked at each other, silently agreeing to put a stop to their experiments for the night. Taking the wires away from Olivia's head, they saw Peter approaching them, handing Olivia's coat to Bell. "You're staying with us - only because I want to make sure Olivia's fine. No smoking, no drugs, no alcohol, or I will find a way to get you out of her; do we have a deal ?" Nodding, Bell grabbed the coat and stood up from the lab chair, putting the garment on.

Arriving at the house, Bell got sent upstairs to get settled into the guest room, leaving Peter and Walter alone in the kitchen. "Son, I do not understand your behavior. Aren't you glad to have Belly on our side ?"

" Aren't I glad -" Huffing, Peter fought to remain calm, trying to verbalize the hundred of thoughts running through his head. "No Walter, I'm not _glad_. Haven't you done enough to Olivia ? Why her ? Why do you always have to make people suffer ?"

"This is temporary, we -"

"What you do is _never_ temporary, Walter. It has consequences It's about time you understand that ! You are playing with people's lives, with people's feelings, and you don't even care !" Grabbing his keys and coat, Peter headed to the front door, storming past Walter.

"Where are you going ?" The watery eyes of the old man didn't stop him; he barely slowed his footing enough to answer. "I'm going out. I need some air." He slammed the front door closed, the sound reverberating in the entire house.

Peter drove mindlessly for half an hour before finally stopping the car in front of a bar. He hadn't though about where he was heading, as far as he was getting away from Walter. He had ended in front of the bar where he had drunk himself into numbness the first time he had believed he had lost Olivia. He had to find the strength to go to the hospital and say goodbye to her, lying immobile on the white sheets; so fragile, so broken. But he hadn't lost her. She had came back to life, like a Phoenix resurrecting from the ashes. And that day, he had made the promise to keep her safe. To look after her. To be there for her, just like she deserved.

Pushing the glass door at the front, he sat himself on a lonely barstool, asking for a double whiskey. The waitress had to only glance at him to understand he wouldn't be chatty. Sighing, he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, admiring the reflection of the lights in it. It reminded him of Olivia's eyes - so shinny, so happy. He had been presumptuous before, but this time, he _knew_ he was making her happy. And she was having the same effect on him, even though he knew he wasn't smiling as much as she did. Laughing bitterly, he threw the content of his glass down his throat in one shot, asking for a refill with a knock on the counter.

Looking up to the opening front door, he wasn't much surprised to meet the eyes of the FBI agent; whether he had him followed or not didn't matter He knew the other man didn't like the new development in his team, either. Nodding his head, Broyles took a seat next to him, ordering the same drink as Peter's.

"How are we supposed to deal with all this ?" The tall man asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Like we always do, I guess. Rationally." Glancing to his left, Peter shrugged and added, his voice slowly breaking : "But then, there's nothing rational, is there ?" Not knowing how to answer, they fell into a comfortable silence, sipping their drinks. A few more refills later, Broyles finally voiced the question nagging at his mind.

"Are you two... ?" Peter raised an eyebrow, nodding. "Yes. Just recently, but..." He needn't say more. Broyles had seen them evolve since the beginning, pulled toward each other as two strong magnets. It was only a matter of time, even after the whole alternate doppelganger fiasco.

"We'll get her back soon, Bishop." Trying to find some comfort in the other man's word, he couldn't. They would get her back, he was sure of that. The question was, would _he_ get her back ? Bell's consciousness had invaded his girlfriend's body mere seconds after he had dropped a bomb on her. He had lied to her. He had killed. He had pursued a personal agenda and hadn't been able to tell the most important person in his life. Sure, they hadn't been on the best of terms at the time. But since then, it had been nagging at him, slowly and constantly gnawing him. He had seen how happy she was, he had been enjoying the blissful feeling as well. But it wasn't fair to her; he couldn't betray her, not him. Not again. So he had came clean, knowing it could be the last straw that broke the camel's back. And now he had all the time to imagine the worst scenarios; Olivia looking at him as if he were _John Scott_, back when she had first found out; rejecting him. But he wasn't scared to lose her - even though he knew he couldn't live without her, not anymore - he was scared he would be the one to finally break her down for good. That she wouldn't make it through. That she wouldn't raise back from her ashes, this time.


End file.
